


I Need It All So Badly

by Pluppelina



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, and it fades to black before any actual watersports happen, this is how Sebastian Moran processes emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluppelina/pseuds/Pluppelina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a lot of time and effort, Sebastian finally gathers the courage to ask Jim the one important question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Need It All So Badly

If there is anything Sebastian Moran has learned about relationships, it is that there are two kinds. First, there’s the kind that he normally had, the kind where he’d fall asleep with his cock in her arse and wake up to a scalding about the fact that he’d had the last coffee, the kind that entailed great sex and even greater fighting, the kind with communcation issues so screwed that it burned out quickly and disappeared without a trace, except for that scar on his forearm where she’d thrown the hot waffle iron after he pointed a gun at her.

Then, there was the other kind, the long term kind, the kind with hard work, the kind where you’re supposed to listen and be concerned and pay attention and feel emotions, the kind that means you have to care enough to not only give HER the last coffee, but also take enough care that you can’t just come out and ask “so, how do you feel about water sports?” over breakfast one morning while she’s drinking it.

Jim Moriarty was, of course, the only exception to the rule. Jim Moriarty, somehow, bizarrely, managed to be both. Sure, it happened on occasion that Sebastian fell asleep with his cock still in Jim’s arse, but fuck did he ever have to work for it, and he did indeed wake up to completely unrelated scoldings, but he never got to drink the last coffee either. There were plenty of scars on him from his boss slash lover slash what-have-you, but the man had yet to go away or answer a single out-right question, no matter how many toaster ovens and frying pans went flying between them.

Logically, Sebastian thought, there was only one thing to do about this, only one way in which he could possibly be able to tell whether this was, in fact, the real deal, The One that he had been told would magically appear in his life and turn him into the best man he could be. Logically, there were a few words that he could utter to see if this was the first kind of relationship disguised as the second, or, indeed, the second kind disguised as the first. He also knew they were dangerous words to ask, had killed more than one relationship even when they were spoken as mere jest, and if Jim Moriarty was to react badly... That might just be the last the world ever saw of Basher Moran.

So it’s with great care that he, buttering his toast, says the words he knows from experience kill temporary relationships faster and with less risk than any other in the English language; “So, how do you feel about water sports?”

Jim, instead of replying, only reaches down very undramatically to unzip his suit trousers with a shrug. “Well, I had to go anyway. Be a dear and clean yourself up after, will you? I don’t want you to smell.”

And there it is, Sebastian thinks. There it is, Jim taking what Sebastian says at exact face value, detracting the hidden insult, adding in his own power and dominance to the equation, then solving what Sebastian had actually said and replying to the answer instead of the question. Jim Moriarty, Sebastian is ever so slowly starting to realise, doesn’t think in words so much as in numbers, whereas Sebastian doesn’t think so much in words as in actions.

Actions, that Jim have somehow seemed to cracked through his numeric code; Sebastian doesn’t think he would be leaning against a kitchen counter with a cup of tea in one hand and his half-hard cock in the other unless he realised just what this question meant to Sebastian, so Sebastian, who doesn’t get to hear Jim say _I love you_ even in so many words very often at all, goes to kneel at his feet like the good dog he’s quickly turning out to be.

If it keeps happening like this, maybe it’ll even be worth it.


End file.
